I never write about paradise. About the region between familiar hands and my own, about the person who makes the perilous journ...
Showing posts with label Happy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Happy. Show all posts
the opposite of lost
he won't say it, but I know he wants to. you can see it when we're kissing. or breathing. making the kind of eye contact only...
it was supposed to be easier than this
I thought music was for healing. I thought they applied it to wounds. Songs weren't supposed to sting, and words weren't su...
last thing, before you go.
It's 11:08am and it's too soon to miss you. The hours are thinning out, and people are waiting on my washy replies, but I...
favoritest
you are my favorite smell. you're the trees in Vermont and the sound lightbulbs make when they go out. you're the tan journal o...
we.
they gave me a scholarship but not because I count my kisses in order. i got a perfect score on my english ACT but that stopped matter...
sunday
I'm like monday morning's late breakfast, with the forgotten aftertaste of sunday's calm on your mouth still and a yearnin...
october has hands.
October can't tell between new friends and potential enemies, reminding you that jerseys only last as long as the weather and warm ...
the truth about memories
people talk about pictures not molding with memories, how the photographs don't tell the story and how the stories look better on ...
good love.
I like good love. It has you waking up an hour before your alarm, failing English and acing science, because you forget how to spea...
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